Monday 29th October 2018 (12.55pm)
Not every blog I write I publish. Sometimes I type or put pen to paper to express my feelings. It’s a way of getting the jumble out of my head instead of it whirling around, festering and becoming a bigger problem. At times I wish my head was not so active. It still has this ability to not want to switch off as it becomes ingrained in a deeper trauma. Sometimes I do not want to share for fear of worrying those who read so I will only make my words public when I am in a safe place and back on even ground. Secondly, I have a private life which others are a part of, and whilst I am careful about what I publish about myself I have to consider those around me.
I suppose the above paragraph is preempting what may be coming and the reasons for me saying this now rather than on Saturday. Nothing bad has happened, I have not done anything stupid or wrong, it is just that my thoughts fell down the rabbit hole and I could not see an easy way out. Things started to spiral on Tuesday, nothing started it, it is just classic depression winging its way towards the head where its brews waiting to erupt.
My usual barriers enclosed around, hiding me from reality and the outside world, where nobody or nothing could penetrate. The switch had been clicked causing shut down mode to those close to me; yet I was still able to function when I needed to, putting on that face to avoid having to answer questions. To those around I looked and appeared like all was good with the world, but inside I was on my way to destructing.
I pushed away my partner saying that I needed time alone, I could offer no explanation as to why, I couldn’t, as I did not know what to say. I could not even formulate things in my own head, let alone verbalise it. I have got years of experiencing me and how I react to my head and what I do. Others are new to this, they are still learning and understanding, quite often not knowing what to say or do for the best. My monosyllabic answers to questions reverberating around my own head, as I sunk deeper for acting the way I did. Mental illness is a minefield, I hate experiencing the ups and downs. I live for the plateaus and the days of happiness which come and go. I am not expecting a rosey world and happy feelings topped with glitter. I am a realist and I know such euphoria does not exist without chemical (often illegal) intervention.
What I am talking about is what really happens when the switch uncontrollably goes and the rational mind turns into one of wanting to self harm and hurt. There were times towards the end of last week when I was thinking about what I could do to myself. I could have easily reached into my drug cabinet or got in the car to run away. The overwhelming desire that I had to escape my head pulled me in so many different directions. Once again, I would look at Olly as he lay next to me without a care in the world. The unconditional love he expresses with his eyes made me feel guilty for having such negative thoughts. I had to dig deep into my resources, empty myself of the hate I had for myself and reach out to my partner who I had pushed away days before. I felt saved when on the phone she said “lets go and get fishcake and chips”. I knew then I that I would be ok, we would be ok as I did my best to explain myself. Such a simple gesture on Saturday evening spun my world back to where it should be.
I could have easily said no to the chips, in fact the old stubborn me would have which would have caused me more misery and pain and the circle would have repeated itself until I would have dug a way out (maybe).
As for now, I am doing ok. I am sat in a coffee shop as I write just having spoken to my best buddy. I have been to the gym, put the Wonder Woman pants back on and this afternoon I will take a walk with Olly, watching him as he runs with freedom and joy. Maybe I should be more like Olly, maybe I should forget the worries and stress of everyday life, pin my ears back and run into the wind with a smile on my face and without a care in the world.
Maybe just maybe.